


Beside The Dying Fire

by deepestfathoms



Category: The Prom (2020), The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Animal Attack, Blood and Injury, Caretaking, Demons, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Food Poisoning, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Intestinal Parasites, Mom Friend Alyssa Greene, Sickfic, Vomiting, Wilderness Survival, a bunch of Canadians who live in the mountains adopt a redhead from Indiana, also all this stuff happens in the FIRST CHAPTER, alyssa and emma are cottagecore gays, snow lesbians!!!!!, starts out like The Hunted but is based more on Escape the Darkwalker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29033895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms
Summary: Winnie didn’t think she could feel any worse than she did when the plane crashed, as hazy as the memories were, but that was just the beginning of the fight for her life in the harsh Canadian wilderness.Alyssa and Emma didn’t think their life could become any more serene in the harsh Canadian wilderness, but then an American teenager stumbles into their land and throws all peace out the window when she brings an ancient creature along with her.A green fog was rolling over the mountains. There was only so much fire that could ward it off.—aka The Long Dark AU nobody asked foraka SNOW LESBIANS!!!!!
Relationships: Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan, Kaylee/Shelby (The Prom Musical)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. blue lips

**Author's Note:**

> buy The Long Dark!!! it’s literally one of the best games I’ve ever played but it’s teeth-grindingly difficult so my anger issues sometimes act up!!!! lol!!!!!!!

Winnie’s screams of agony rebounded through the canyon like crashing thunder. They were so loud that someone had to have heard her, even all the way out in the frozen wastelands of Canada, but she already knew nobody was going to come for her. And even if they did, nobody was going to get anywhere near her with the furious, 435lbs brown bear on top of her.

Winnie hadn’t meant to get so close to the sow’s cubs. You would think she would have seen them sooner, what with the bright contrast between brown fur and white snow, but she hadn’t realized it until it was too late. She heard the faint growls, then saw the flash of two bundles of fluff, and then there was a very angry mama bear charging at her.

She knew you weren’t supposed to run from a predator, especially a brown bear, but Winnie couldn’t think rationally with the giant beast barreling towards her. She couldn’t even remember to play dead, so, instead, she turned tail and tried to get away.

That turned out as well as anyone would expect.

The sow bit down on Winnie’s left shoulder and shook her head wildly, so much so that Winnie was starting to fear that her arm was going to be torn right off. Thick claws raked down her back, tearing through her clothes and sinking deep into her flesh. She could feel the warmth of blood spreading all over her body, and, morbidly, it helped dispel the chill of the snow she was now writhing in.

Winnie gave up fighting after awhile. She didn’t know if it was because she finally remembered that she should be playing dead or if she was just too exhausted to struggle anymore. Whatever it was, the sow seemed pleased that she was no longer kicking and screaming and continued her assault.

Teeth closed around Winnie’s throat. Not deep enough to sink in just yet, but close enough to the delicate skin to send jolts of terror throughout her entire body. Winnie whimpered.

The bear began to close her jaws and Winnie screwed her eyes shut, waiting for the sweet release of death--but it never happened.

Opening one tear-filled, cloudy grey eye, Winnie saw the bear staring up at the sky. Even with her face so lacking of basic human features, Winnie could still see that she was unsettled by something. Her fuzzy brown ears flicked back and forth on her head, then her gaze snapped back down to Winnie. Slowly, with her teeth scraping across the sides of Winnie’s neck, she let go before she could deliver the fatal bite. She stepped back, looked up at the sky once again, snarled at Winnie, then turned and ran back to her cubs.

Winnie was left in the snow, slowly bleeding out.

Winnie didn’t move for a long time, both because she was afraid of the bear still being around and because she was sort of hoping the cold would freeze her wounds shut. That was just wishful thinking, and she was wasting precious consciousness, so she slowly rolled around and sat up.

Agony--not just pain--rocketed through every inch of Winnie’s body. It was so bad that she couldn’t bite back the scream that forced its way out of her throat. A fresh set of tears came fast down her face, freezing cold the moment the harsh wind touched them.

She had to get up.

Looking around wearily, Winnie spotted a ruined house nearby. The building was demolished, but the basement seemed to still be intact from the doors she could see, so she hobbled over and crawled inside.

It was only slightly less cold inside the basement than it was outside of it. With her clothing in tatters, Winnie was completely free to the harsh elements of the Canadian wilderness. She had to find some new clothing, as well as something to patch up her wounds.

Winnie dripped blood across the cement as she descended into the basement. Inside, there was a washer and dryer, a fridge, the water tank for the house, and a few shelves full of junk. Winnie staggered over to the washer and dryer almost instantly and began digging through them.

Her silent prayers seemed to be answered, because there were some sports socks in the washer and a hoodie and down vest in the dryer. Her sweatshirt hadn’t survived the attack, so the shirts were welcoming (her jeans and thermal underwear, luckily, had not been ruined as badly as their top-body counterpart).

Well, at least that solved one of her problems.

Winnie began digging through the containers on the shelves and, by some stroke of luck, pulled out a few rolls of bandages. She used all of them for the gashes down her back and the bite mark on her shoulder. Any smaller nicks and scratches got pieces of shredded cloth she managed to find in a metal box. After the bleeding was taken care of, Winnie pulled on the fresh clothes.

She did not feel any warmer, but she trusted they would help her.

Fighting through the constant pain, Winnie scoured the rest of the basement. She found a backpack with a water bottle and energy bar in it, a flare gun with five shells in a protective case, two cans of food and an emergency stim on a shelf, and a rolled up bed roll in the corner. When Winnie saw the last item, she realized how exhausted she was and couldn’t help but unroll the cot across the floor.

Winnie knew you shouldn’t sleep when you were both cold and suffering from blood loss, and yet her head grew fuzzy and everything went black…

* * *

Winnie’s dream was filled with a thick green smog, so thick that it seemed to choke her. In its depths, she thought she could see something staring back at her.

**“You’re going to wish that bear killed you, little girl.”**

* * *

Winnie gasped as she woke up. For a moment, she was panicking, worsening the pain that seemed to infect her entire body, and then she calmed down when she realized where she was and what had happened.

Not that reality was any less fear-inducing. 

Winnie knew right away that she couldn’t stay in the basement forever. She had to get up and go and find her class. 

Upon gathering all the supplies inside the basement and stepping outside, Winnie saw that the clouds in the sky were faintly green.

* * *

Whatever was left of the plane was lying with its nose burrowed in the snow almost a mile away from the place where Winnie had been attacked. Part of the cockpit was gone. All of the cargo was missing. The tail was snapped at an angle and an engine was hanging precariously from a tree above the wreck. Charred debris littered the forest floor and part of the wreck itself was still on fire, despite the constant gusts of wind whisking through the area. Most of the surrounding trees were damaged, leaning over at an angle or snapped raggedly in half. It must have been a hell of an impact.

Winnie couldn’t really remember the moments leading up to the fall. All she could make out from the fog that still shrouded her mind was everyone chatting about their special class trip to Canada and then a jarring, grinding sound that seemed to rattle all of Winnie’s bones. Then, screaming.

Winnie had woken up upside down, strapped to a seat, hanging from a tree. She remembered being cold and confused and scared, but not in much pain. Nothing aside from a little whiplash. 

After she freed herself, she had wandered around in the cold, calling for her class, but instead just found an angry mother bear.

Winnie was starting to shiver. She did a once-over of the wreckage one last time, then continued on. The temperature was far too low for her to be standing around; she had to keep moving or else she would succumb to the cold.

When she headed East she came across a railway line. Thank God, a sign of civilization. That meant they didn’t crash in the middle of nowhere. The odds were against them, there were over 35,000 islands in the Arctic Archipelago and only a handful of them were inhabited, but this was a good sign. 

She headed right on a whim and followed the tracks, keeping an ear out in case a train came that she could flag down. There were power lines running parallel and now that she was out of the trees and in the scant daylight she could see them branch off from the tracks a little ahead of him. Even better. She followed them and stumbled into a low-lying sign for a ‘Mystery Lake Camp Office’ and he spotted the two-story building half way down a slope towards a frozen lake. It was dark and boarded up, but it didn’t take much effort to get the front door open. When she walked in she instantly felt warmer. It was such a relief to get out of the icy wind. 

There was a wood-burning stove in the corner and an abundance of neatly stacked logs next to it so she built a fire and lit it to warm the place up. Even inside, the temperature was well below freezing, her breath misting in the air. She was grateful for the thermals under her jeans but there was only so long they could keep her warm. 

The fire grew quickly, giving off some much-needed heat and a warm yellow glow that lights up the office. It had started to snow outside and Winnie closed the shutters to keep the heat inside.

On the counter next to the stove were a couple of old-fashioned paraffin lanterns. They were both full so she stored one by her backpack, which she had hung up on the hooks next to the front door. After all, she didn’t need the light at that moment, as it was bright enough outside for her to assess the building on her own.

The building seemed to be part office and part boarding house. There was a rotary phone downstairs but it didn’t have a dial tone, and an old ham radio sitting on the counter but there was no power so no signal. The upper floor was an open balcony that held a couple of cots and some blankets, a dresser, bearskin rug, a bookshelf with only a few books left behind, and another, smaller stove. She lit a fire up there as well to try to defrost the place a little quicker.

A small bathroom was tucked in the corner downstairs, but both the toilet and the pipes were frozen and the shower was packed with an industrial-sized fish box filled with fishing gear. Winnie didn’t know how to fish, but she grabbed a hook and line anyway.

The office slowly thawed out, the cold chased away by the heat of the two stoves. It wasn’t until that moment that Winnie noticed something pinned on the notice board on the far wall. 

A note.

_“Glyphs of Power and their Uses:_

_Lure -- Attract the Darkwalker_

_Ward -- A shield, if only for a little while._

_Dispel -- Push back the choking fog. But only once._

_Darkwalkers spread fear and feed on oblivion - knowledge will help you defeat the entity for good.”_

The Darkwalker? Was that some kind of Canadian folklore monster?

Although she had never heard of such a creature before, something familiar sparked in her brain. She remembered her pain-filled dream and shuddered. What a weird coincidence.

Alongside the note, there was a can of green spray paint. Winnie glanced at it, then grabbed it. Just in case.

She spent six hours in that building. She read books she found to pass the time, but soon she realized that she would have to keep going. She gathered up as many supplies as her weak, injured body could carry, then headed out into the cold.

There was a mangled body out there waiting for her. It was one of her classmates, Marcus. 

It hadn’t been there before.

* * *

Cold. Cold. So cold.

Winnie now wished she had never left that cabin. She could have just lived in there or at least waited for help to arrive. Surely someone would come.

But no. Now she was trudging along a train track while lugging around canned foods so she wouldn’t starve and an axe she didn’t think she even knew how to use. And, fucking hell, it was COLD.

Her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. Even after warming up in the cabin, all her warmth was now gone, snuffed out by the bitterly cold wind. 

Something was wrong with the clouds.

* * *

Winnie ran into a pack of wolves. She chased them off with a flare, but they got close enough beforehand to send her heart racing with anxiety.

Why did it feel like they were the least terrifying thing out there with her?

* * *

A day passed.

One full day.

It felt like it had been longer. Like it’d actually been a year. But she supposed that was what loneliness and solitude did to you, drag the days into endless stretches of time. 

Loneliness had been a best friend of Winnie’s for a long time. She didn’t have many friends growing up, and if she did, then it was just because they wanted to be invited to her mansion. Everyone wanted to, so they exploited her trust and people pleasing-self over and over again, and she believed them every single time.

_This is the one this time!_

_Hayley is different! She won’t do that to me!_

_Olivia isn’t like Hayley!_

_Chloe is different!_

_They won’t leave me!_

_She likes me!_

_She’s my best friend!_

Over and over again. It never ended. She never got a break.

She never got a _friend._

So, she grew up alone. She had to learn to take care of herself rather quickly after realizing her parents wouldn’t do it for her. They hated her. They always hated her.

But this? This solitude? This real-life survival all on her own? It was awful. 

It was _hell._

* * *

_“I discarded the farsighted mask, and only bone remains. The gate is closed. Will it come for me now?”_

* * *

Winnie was so thirsty. She would have eaten snow if there hadn’t been the risk of hypothermia. 

That mindset went away after she had to run from a pack of wolves and her need for water _really_ set in. Her tongue was shriveled and dried in her mouth, and her lips were so chapped from cold. She needed something to soothe them.

* * *

Eating snow was a mistake. Winnie felt like she was dying. She was too cold.

* * *

She ran out of food faster than she would like to admit. Two days had passed and her canned goods were now gone. Eating was the only thing giving her energy, so she had been indulging herself, but now she had nothing.

Until she came across the corpse, of course.

Hunting was tradition in an English Aristocrat- or that’s what the guards and Winnie had never fired a bow with shivering, trembling limbs, and she never thought she had to, but then she stumbled upon the rotting corpse of a hunter in the snow and knew what had to be done.

There was a bear trap clamped tightly on the left ankle. A bow was slung around the torso. It was too cold for maggots, but the body still reeked. She nearly threw up as she knelt to it and ripped the bow and quiver off.

She ended up finding a small cave nearby. It was slightly warmer inside, protected by the wind. She ignored the bones she saw lying around.

After collecting some firewood, Winnie knelt beside the sticks and stared at them, as if she were hoping they would light if she gave them a stern-enough look. Then, she took a stick and began a technique she once saw on a late night episode of Dual Survivor.

It was called the “hand drill” apparently. By using a bow to grind a stick against a piece of wood, enough friction would be created to start a fire. On paper, it sounded like a simple way to help in a survival situation, but actually doing it was a lot more problematic.

Winnie was crouched on the ground, drilling a stick down onto another piece of wood for half an hour, and all she really succeeded in was tearing strips off of her hands. Fresh blisters stung and glowed angry pink in the open air. Splinters pokes at the raw flesh, deepening Winnie’s agony, but she kept trying. She feared would freeze during the night if she didn’t.

After nearly another hour, there were enough ashes to dump into a pile of dry-enough moss and grass to blow on, eventually starting a small fire that grew larger and larger. Winnie actually sobbed out of relief. 

It was sad, she thought, that she was acting like this was the best thing to ever happen to her.

After dumping as much wood as possible into the fire, Winnie ducked out of the cave to find something to eat. She regretted this almost instantly, and not just because of the cold. The darkness of the forest seemed to close around her. For a moment, she swore she thought she saw something staring at her from the nearby cliffs, but then its ominous form moved out of view. She did not look back.

A buck had heard her coming, and Winnie cursed herself. She already didn’t want to kill an innocent animal, but it fleeing was just making this even worse. She began to fear getting lost if she went any further.

The buck ran out of sight, and Winnie tried to chase after it on her sore, tired legs. She pushed harshly through the brambles and bushes, dumping snow on herself in the process. She knew she wouldn’t find it on the other side. She’d given it so much warning with her clumsy noise that it could be anywhere by now.

Winnie turned around and began retracing her steps. She stopped, however, when she saw another deer nearby.

She drew her salvaged bow, staring down a trembling arrow, praying that her hands would be steady enough to keep her from starving to death. Despair set in as she released the arrow. She was clawing for one more hellish day in this nightmare that had become her life in a span of mere days.

The deer never knew what hit her. And it was a her. Winnie was able to discern that as she crouched down next to the body and brought her next arrow closer. The arrowhead was small but sharp, and she began slicing the fur away, wondering if she could make some gloves, or sleeves, or something to hold back the wind and snow that seemed to never end in this rugged wasteland.

A smaller noise squealed from her left, and she snatched up her bow. The new animal was…young. It was a deer, barely two months old, and Winnie knew instantly that she had just orphaned the little one.

It was terrified of her, but unable to leave the mother’s body…

The helpless creature squealed again, and Winnie knew it was doomed. More so than she was. She, at least, had learned the protection of silence. The baby’s squealing would call down every carnivore or person in the area.

Winnie notched another arrow into her bow…and put it right between the little creature’s eyes.

Her lack of hesitation scared her.

She had thrown away more than a few of the promises she had made to herself just a few hours ago. She had promised that she wouldn’t participate in hunting. She had promised herself she wouldn’t give way to despair. She had promised herself she wouldn’t be cruel to anything or anyone that was helpless. But now she didn’t care. If someone she loved had come by with a piece of bread, she would have caved their head in with a rock just to get a bite of it.

Savage. She felt savage.

Winnie dragged the deers back to the camp. They were still warm. She wanted to rub their hot guts all over her body, and _that_ was something that terrified her.

Gutting was a painful process. Winnie might have thrown up if she had anything left in her system.

She cooked slabs of meat in the fire as best as she could. She didn’t know when they were ready or what parts she was even supposed to cook, but she did her best. She indulged herself on the deer until her stomach hurt, and then she cried herself to sleep, the tears freezing to her face.

* * *

_“The poison in my blood draws it closer...and now that poison fills the air...the formless hunting a form.”_

* * *

The next morning, there was green fog in the air. It was silent, except for the growling and snarling that came from every direction, at any moment. Winnie knew it wasn’t an animal.

* * *

Winnie kept hearing footsteps behind her. She was too scared to turn around, but it was there, she knew it was. 

It was coming.

* * *

Something was wrong with the deer she ate. Or maybe she just didn’t cook it long enough. She didn’t know. But her stomach hurt terribly and constant need to stop and use the bathroom would have been embarrassing if she was capable of feeling embarrassed anymore. All she felt was loneliness, anguish, and agony.

Constant agony.

She hoped the thing following her would deliver her quick mercy.

* * *

Winnie found a small cabin hidden in the woods. There was an actual bed inside. There was food, too, but she was too nauseous to eat. She collapsed into the bed instantly, only to wake up an hour later, vomiting all over the floor. She cried and screamed as she writhed in the blankets, holding her aching stomach.

And then, there was shuffling. A voice tutted caringly over her head and cold fingers are brushing back her damp bangs to feel her forehead. She pressed into the cool touch.

“Oh, darling, you’re burning up,” Murmured the voice.

“…Hurts..” Winnie croaked. She didn’t have the energy to open her eyes. Every inch of her body hurt and she was starting to shiver so badly she could barely talk.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Soothed the voice, “But I’ll take care of you. Would you like that?”

Winnie bobbed her head up and down.

“Please, please…”

“Okay, baby. I will. I’m right here.”

Winnie fell asleep to know one stroking her hair.

* * *

The next morning, Winnie discovered the rifle on the wall. She had missed it when she first came in. She exchanged it for her bow, which she was too weak to use anymore, and immediately stuck the muzzle in her mouth.

She couldn’t bring herself to pull the trigger. Mainly because she didn’t know how to turn the safety off. She grumbled and holstered it to her back, then went on her way.

The green fog outside tasted toxic.

* * *

_"The gnashing, the grinding, a thing from the stars. But no beauty sets down from that endless void..."_

* * *

Winnie had to pick up the pace, she knew she did. The fog was getting thicker, and a blizzard would be rolling in soon. She knew her rifle and axe couldn’t save her from the horrors it hid.

* * *

She slipped.

On a small hill, Winnie slipped.

Despite falling a short distance and landing on snow, Winnie felt like she just fell onto thousands of jagged, razor sharp icicles. A freezing shock shot through every inch of her body and she opened her mouth to scream, but her vocal chords seemed to be frozen.

The snow and biting winds were surely close to cutting her frail skin open. It wouldn’t be difficult, as she already had several injuries all over her body. When she felt heat on her shoulder, she knew the bite wound had opened up.

God, she felt so heavy. Like she’d accidentally gotten trapped under a pile of snow. She dug and dug and dogs but the snow kept piling on. She was no closer to breaching the surface.

Her fingers were numb and blue but Winnie kept digging. She had to get out. So she dug and dug, ignoring the way her breath rattled asthmatically with every inhale. Icicles must be forming in her chest with every breath. Sharp little crystals were coming to life every time her lungs expanded and contracted, turning the pink muscles a worrying shade of blue.

She cried, but there were no tears. She was sobbing for her mother. She wanted her Mama so badly. She didn’t want to die. Not like this.

Snow crunched nearby. Winnie’s awareness came rushing back. The fog was so thick and so dark. She scrambled away, whimpering, and left a trail of blood in her wake.

* * *

Her fingertips were blue. The mittens she had been wearing got too wet from the snow and did little to keep her hands warm anymore. She didn’t know how long her now-bare fingers would last in the harsh elements.

* * *

The constant vomiting made Winnie terribly hungry and thirsty. She tried to catch a rabbit with her bare hands, but that only succeeded her in a face full of snow. She lapped at it, and it froze her tongue. 

She was still hungry and thirsty.

* * *

The bite on her shoulder was starting to smell foul. She didn’t know how she would clean it of the caking of blood and yellow-green pus, so she rubbed snow over it. The wound froze, and blisters soon appeared. She didn’t know how to treat that, either.

* * *

Winnie was starting to warm up! She didn’t know how, but her face had been growing hot for quite some time now. The heat was a relief.

* * *

The heat was not a relief. Winnie was starting to grow sweaty and uncomfortable, more so than she already was. She began considering removing some clothing. Maybe it would help.

* * *

The thing was right behind her. 

She was running.

Winnie was running, but it was fast. Faster than her. She didn’t know what to do.

She began to cry as she ran. She dove into an old mine and raced through the rocks, but she could still hear it behind her. Its claws scraped over the stone and she sobbed.

The mine twisted and turned in every direction. Winnie sprinted blindly through the darkness, suddenly full of adrenaline. She dreaded seeing a dead end, but it just kept going. 

Then, she burst through a chainlink door and breached the cold air of the outside. 

Never before had she been so grateful for the merciless wind.

The sky was clear on this side of the mountain. It was light blue with soft grey clouds strung up across the horizon. It was no warmer, but at least the choking green fog was gone.

Winnie’s knees buckled and she toppled down a snowy slope. She landed roughly in a heap of sticks, twitching and groaning. She was covered in mud and her clothing was now ripped, freeing any bare skin to the elements. Her knees were skinned raw, practically glowing neon pink and bright red.

She staggered up, wincing as sharp pains crawled up her legs. She lifted her foot off the ground like a dog with a thorn in its paw as it felt like every tendon in her ankle had just been slashed. She had to hobble and limp forward, nearly crying out in pain every time her toes merely brush something.

She only got a few steps forward before she fell again.

This time, she did not get up.

Shivering quickly consumed Winnie from head to toe, setting her teeth clattering so hard she was sure her brain would rattle right out of her ears. She drew heavy breaths in through her nose, every intake of air feeling like daggers carving out her lungs.

She was sobbing again, but the tears didn’t feel like acid like they usually did. They run scalding hot for only a few seconds before the unforgiving cold chills them on her cheeks.

She smothered her face against the snow, not caring anymore, and scrunched her eyes shut tight, focusing on her breathing. If she could steady her shuddering breaths, maybe she could get her extremities to follow… In through the nose, because if she opened her mouth again she worried her tongue might freeze (probably not but the fear still nagged her brain). She just had to block out everything else- the wind, the cold, the unrelenting voices in her head. She tucked her chin further down, burying her exposed face in her skinned knees. Just breathe. Focus…and breathe…

The shock of cold snow fluttering down onto the left side of her face had her gasping for breath, the pain of it leaving every exposed inch of skin in agony of a thousand pins and needles. The ache in her stomach and shoulder and palms and head made it all worse and she moaned weakly into the snow.

Is this how she died? Alone, freezing cold, and in a place she didn’t? Well, it was probably better than being surrounded by people who didn’t actually care about her… 

Winnie’s sobbing was reduced to feeble whimpers and hiccups. Her breathing shallowed out and she closed her heavy eyelids.

As her mind began to waver, succumbing to the pain and cold, she cried for her parents to help her, but it was no use: they couldn’t help her. They weren’t there. And even if they were, they wouldn’t help her, anyway. So, she cried for her liar friends, her fake friends, her manipulative friends and everyone else, wishing that she had been more likable, that she had been what they wanted, that she hadn’t have worried all the time, that she could actually call them her friends without her stomach sinking in a horrible, disbelieving way.

The world cracked. Cold clenched her lungs so tightly that each breath was a silver razor in her chest. Her mind tripped in sluggish circles, white-blind and hum-deaf, until color and sound turned into overlapping floods as her body burst into fiery pins.

Snow crunched nearby, but Winnie did not move. She couldn’t. She just wanted it to end already.

She could hear the beast. It was sneaking up on her. She closed her eyes with a final sob, giving her body unto its wrath.

“…mma…the horse…”

After everything, it felt nice to not feel.

* * *

 _"...a pale river, turned in on itself, a rush of blood to my head. Only the crooked path leads me away..."_


	2. thaw

Winnie awoke to a daze of heat and pain. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she was instantly met with the cold, dead eyes of a buck.

She flinched, which caused her to crack her head back against a headboard and the pain in her stomach to come back with vengeance. She moaned softly, snaking her arms around her stomach, and burying her face into the pile of pillows she had been laying against.

Wait--

Winnie blinked. Although she was exhausted and in pain, she  _ knew  _ she hadn’t been in a bed before. She looked around, realizing the buck was just a taxidermy head mounted on the wall, and that she was in a bedroom. Light was filtering in from a window, which was fogged up with frost. Snowflakes tapped faintly against the glass, beckoning for entry. There was shuffling from outside in the hall, and then a beautiful woman stepped inside.

She was quite a bit older than Winnie, but not in her mid-twenties just yet. The forest green sweater she was wearing contrasted nicely with her dark skin and hair, while the mustard yellow scarf around her neck did the exact opposite. There was a steaming red mug in her hand. When she noticed Winnie looking up at her dazedly, she smiled.

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” The woman said. She glanced at the taxidermy deer and chuckled. “It startled you, didn’t it? I told Emma we should take it down, but she insisted on keeping it.” She shook her head in an amused way while walking over to the bed. She turned on the lamp on the nightstand, and Winnie winced at the light. “Oh dear. You’re still so pale… How are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts,” Winnie whispered hoarsely. She looked around dazedly. “Where…where am I? How did I get here?”

“The village is called Wolfden, but you’re in Great Bear. You came from the old mines. You’re lucky I found you when I did or else you would have froze to death out there.” The woman tilted her head. “What  _ were  _ you doing out there in the forest place? You’re awfully young. Where are your parents?”

“I-I was on a school trip,” Winnie said, stumbling over her words. “The plane crashed. I’ve just been wandering.”

The woman frowned. “The wilderness beat you with a stick, it seems. That bite on your shoulder is nasty.”

Winnie was then reminded of her wounded shoulder. She winced. “It was a bear.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “You got lucky, then. What is the Old Bear?” 

“What?” 

“The Old Bear is a legend around here. I swear, that bear has been around for as long as I’ve been around. She’s a real force to be wrecking with.”

“I-- I dunno…” All this Canadian folklore was making Winnie’s head spin. Or maybe that was just the pain. The woman seemed to notice this because she gently pushed the mug into her hands.

“Drink this,” She said. “It’ll help with the nausea and pain.”

Winnie looked down at the cup. The liquid inside was a yellowish-brown color with weird orange things floating inside of it. It smelled slightly woodsy, almost like decomposing mulch.

“It’s reishi tea,” The woman explained. “Make sure to eat the mushrooms. They’re clean, don’t worry.”

Desperate to be rid of the pain that infected her entire being, Winnie took a big sip. She sputtered instantly, nearly spitting it back out. The woman laughed.

“It’s a little bitter,” She said. “But it’ll help, I promise.”

Winnie believed her. She had no reason not to, as this lady had saved her from a bitter cold end.

“I’m Alyssa. Alyssa Greene.” The woman said. “What’s your name? Where are you from?”

“I’m Winnie. Winnie, umm, Thompson.” Winnie said after swallowing another bitter mouthful of tea. “I’m from Indiana.”

Alyssa whistled. “Long way from home.”

Winnie nodded. Just then, a fierce cramp seized her stomach in a vice. She nearly spilled the tea as she doubled over, wrapping one arm around her aching midsection with a low moan. Alyssa set a hand on her shoulder.

“Finish the tea and then you can get some more rest,” She said. “The doctor will be here soon.”

Winnie looked up at her hazily, then nodded. She finished off the tea and laid back down, curling up in the layers of blankets.

“Thank you,” She whispered as Alyssa turned off the lamp. “For saving me…”

* * *

Winnie wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she was awoken again. This time, it wasn’t on her own accord, but because someone was gently shaking her side. She groaned quietly as her eyelids fluttered open, and she saw Alyssa hovering over her, the lamp illuminating her soft but rugged features.

“Sorry,” Alyssa said. “The doctor is here. It’s time for your check up.”

Winnie looked to the side and saw a man standing in the doorway. There was one other person, too. A woman with long brown hair. She also saw that a wooden table had been moved to an open space in the room.

“Come on,” The man, who was presumably the doctor, said. “Get her onto the table.”

Upon the command, Alyssa hoisted Winnie into her arms and set her onto the table. Winnie was too startled by suddenly being picked up to be in pain over her weak body, mangled being touched. 

Instead of bothering to try and remove all her clothes, the doctor took out a pair of scissors from the bag he had and cut down the middle. Winnie was anything but happy about being almost completely nude in front of all of these strangers.

“Hey,” She said weakly. “You know how hard I worked for those clothes?”

The doctor gave her a sympathetic smile. “We’ll supply you with some more afterwards. Ones that aren’t covered in blood.”

Winnie eyed the scraps of clothes. She had forgotten how much blood had been on them.

“This is Trent,” Alyssa said. “The best doctor on Great Bear.”

“The only doctor, I presume?” Winnie said, looking up.

Trent laughed. “You won’t find a better doctor anywhere else. And I won’t charge you the price of your house for treatment, either, like I hear happens in America.”

Winnie sure hoped they wouldn’t charge her. She had nothing to give them.

Trent looked down at her half-naked body and whistled, which she wouldn’t have expected a doctor to do. She followed his gaze to the festering bite wound on her shoulder. 

“That certainly is a bite,” Trent said, which wasn’t very reassuring. He grinned at Winnie’s uneasy expression. “Don’t worry! I know how to solve this problemo! Haha, Spanish.” And then he took out a needle and thread.

Winnie jolted at the sight of it. “Wait, wait-- wh-what about aesthetics?”

The woman laughed. “Oh honey. You really aren’t from the mountains.”

Winnie looked at her in startled shock.

“A simple suturing doesn’t require anesthesia,” Trent informed her. “We conserve those resources for emergencies.”

“And a bear attack isn’t considered one?” Winnie said.

Trent laughed again. “You made it this far, didn’t you? I promise it isn’t as bad as it seems.”

Winnie highly doubted that.

As Trent prepared the needle and thread, the brunette woman took out a bottle of clear liquid labeled only by a crude sketch of a cross on it and then another bottle that smelled faintly of alcohol when opened from the bag. She flushed out every inch of the wound on Winnie’s shoulder with the clear liquid, then drenched the whole length with the second. The reddish-brown fluid streamed down Winnie’s bare chest and stomach, along with the bubbling of budding blood that got washed out by whatever was in the first bottle. They both stung like fire, and Winnie grit her teeth at the pain.

“Signs of infection,” Said the brunette woman, peering closely at the wound. “Slight blisters from the cold.”

Trent nodded, keeping his hands in the air like a surgeon. “Shelby, hold the wound shut for me. Alyssa, keep her still.”

The brunette woman, Shelby, apparently, pinched the open edges of the tears caused by the bear’s teeth shut, causing Winnie to hiss. Alyssa pressed down on her other shoulder. Trent nodded, then bent over Winnie and started the stitches. 

Winnie gasped and jerked out of her half-daze, looking to the source of the pain and finding the man.

“It’s okay, Winnie, it’s okay,” Alyssa said softly. Trent was hovering up again, waiting, letting Winnie get her bearings and settle. “It’s going to be okay.”

Winnie stared up at Alyssa for a moment, then looked at everyone else, slightly embarrassed. The last thing she thought would happen on this trip was her getting a wound from a bear attack sewn shut by a bunch of Canadians who seemingly lived out in the middle of nowhere. Her head dropped back down against the table.

“Okay,” She breathed. A light sheen of sweat developing along her nose, cheeks, and forehead. Her stomach was starting to hurt again, and she prayed that she wouldn’t accidentally throw up on these people--or worse.

“Hey, stay awake.” Trent ordered, somehow noticing her eyes closing, even though he was supposed to be stitching.

“She’s just resting,” Alyssa said, a little defensive for some reason, but when she earned a surprisingly hard look from Trent, she opted to obey the professional and lightly shake Winnie’s shoulder. Winnie shuddered too much, jarring Trent’s meticulous work and making the man lean back to mutter obscenities, something that Winnie thought he wasn’t capable of given how soft and silly-looking he was.

“Talk to her,” Trent said. “Distract her.”

“How old are you?” Shelby asked, momentarily glancing away from the wound she was holding shut for Trent. Her eyes were as dark as tree bark.

“Fifteen,” Winnie answered. “I was on a school trip to Canada, but…” She looked away grimly.

“Oh,” Shelby said. “I see. I’m sorry. That must have been awful for you.”

Winnie nodded silently. 

“Well, hey,” Alyssa piped up. “You’re here now. And you’re going to be okay. I promise, Trent knows what he’s doing.”

“FUCK!” Trent yelled with impeccable comedic timing. “I poked myself! Ow!”

“Okay, NOW I promise.” Alyssa corrected herself.

Winnie’s jaw just hung open slightly. Was this really the person who kept everyone alive out here?

Suddenly, she gasped as Trent pulled the thread through. The friction of it was uncomfortable and made her stomach churn.

“Only a little more to go. Keep her awake.” Trent directed to Alyssa.

“You’re okay, honey.” Alyssa whispered comfortingly. “It’s almost over.”

“Okay,” Winnie breathed. “I’m, uh,” She looked around. “Cold.”

“You’re sweating.” Shelby replied grimly.

Winnie looked at her and then let her head fall back again. She dug her nails into the wood of the tabletop.

“I don’t wanna talk. Is that okay?” Winnie slurred.

“Yes, that’s okay.” Trent answered. He gave Alyssa a look and Alyssa nodded, knowing the conversation part of her job was over now.

For awhile it was just silence broken by the occasional noises- the fire cracking from seemingly downstairs, the wind blowing, the snow tapping on the windows, Winnie’s occasional whimpers and rapid pants. Finally, Trent clipped off the end of the stitches. They were expert-level precise.

“Do you have any honey?” Trent asked Alyssa.

Alyssa nodded. “In the cabinets downstairs.”

Trent nodded. He fished out a roll of bandages and handed them to Shelby. “Unravel these and soak them in the honey for five minutes. Make sure they’re all covered.”

Shelby bobbed her head, then left the room. Trent turned back to Winnie.

“Alright, let’s see what else is wrong with our American friend,” He said.

First, fingers felt her forehead, then prodded beneath her jaw and along her neck. Trent frowned.

“What is it?” Alyssa asked.

“She’s running a fever. Her lymph nodes are swollen, too.” Trent answered. “That’s good, though. Her body is fighting whatever she has.” His hands trailed down, poking gently, and Winnie felt supremely awkward. “A few bruises, cuts, abdominal bloating…” He looked at Winnie. “Have you been feeling sick lately?”

“Umm,” Winnie shifted. “Yeah.”

“Can you describe your symptoms to me, please?”

“Well, umm…I cooked and ate these deers, but then my stomach started to hurt. And then I kept feeling nauseous and I was throwing up a lot and, umm,” Her face turned red. “O-other things…”

Trent nodded. “What about worms in your stool?”

This time, Winnie’s entire body went hot with embarrassment. “A-ah-- I-I don’t know. I-I didn’t, umm, I didn’t…check.”

Another nod. Trent and Alyssa seemed unfazed by the discussion of Winnie’s restroom issues. Winnie, on the other hand, wanted to die. 

“Does it hurt when I press down on your stomach?” Trent asked, then pressed down on her stomach.

Winnie yelped. “Ow! Yes!”

Trent rubbed his chin. “Interesting…”

Alyssa looked at him. “What do you think it is?”

“You said you started feeling sick after eating some meat, right?” Trent asked Winnie.

Winnie nodded. “Yeah…”

“Well, best case scenario is food poisoning,” Trent said. “Worst case scenario is intestinal parasites.”

Winnie’s heart jolted. Her eyes widened as she looked to Alyssa, as if she were expecting the woman to assure her. But Alyssa did, setting a hand on her good shoulder.

“It isn’t as bad as it sounds,” Trent said.

“There could be worms living in my stomach!” Winnie yelped, tears of fear pricking to her eyes.

“Don’t worry, I know what to do,” Trent said. He looked at Alyssa. “Do you have any wormwood and garlic?”

“I do,” Alyssa said.

“Do you mind brewing some wormwood tea? It has properties in it that weaken the parasites, if there are any, and kill them off.”

Alyssa nodded. “Got it.” She walked out, leaving Winnie alone with the doctor, which didn’t make her feel any less awkward. Winnie simply closed her eyes and tried to just relax.

Some time passed. Trent did a few more checkups, but didn’t say much. It wasn’t long before Shelby and Alyssa returned, both holding their respective requested items.

“Drink up,” Trent said as Alyssa handed Winnie the mug. He looked at Alyssa. “Make sure she’s eating raw garlic, beets, and carrots while she’s here. They all have anti-parasitic properties in them. And she needs to drink a lot of water to flush out her system.”

“Aye aye,” Alyssa said.

The tea in Winnie’s hand was clear and smelled like something you would rub on a turkey on Thanksgiving. When she took a sip, it was awfully bitter. Much worse than the reishi tea by a longshot. She sputtered.

“Drink it all,” Trent said.

“Doctor’s orders,” Alyssa added.

Trent then took the bandages out from the bowl Shelby was holding and began wrapping them around Winnie’s injured shoulder. They were sticky and smelled strongly of honey. When he was done dressing them, he added a second layer of bandages.

“And voila!” Trent stepped back to admire his handiwork. “Job complete!”

He looked happy, so Winnie decided not to tell him that she was still in pain.

After Trent and Shelby picked up and left, Alyssa helped Winnie into some fresh clothes. They were soft and much more comfortable than the ones she had found in the basement of that one house. Alyssa gave her some painkillers before she laid back down.

“Thank you,” Winnie said. “For everything.”

Alyssa smiled down at her from where she was perched on the side of the bed. “Well, you know what they say about Canadians. We’re super friendly. I couldn’t let you freeze out there.”

Winnie smiled faintly. The painkillers were starting to kick in.

“We’ll get you home soon, Winnie,” Alyssa said. “For now, rest up. If you’re feeling up to it tomorrow, I can show you around town.”

Weird. For some reason, Winnie wished she could stay there forever.

* * *

Winnie really  _ wasn’t  _ up to moving around the next morning, but she didn’t want to stay inside anymore. She desperately needed to stretch her legs, even if it was out in the bone-chilling Canadian wind.

Wolfden was surrounded on all sides by steep, snow-capped mountains. It apparently got its name because of its location, which was secluded and protected like a wolf’s den.

Beyond the surprising amount of houses, snow stretched on for miles. From the blanket of, great big pine trees sprouted. Winnie wondered if there actually was grass underneath all of it.

The town itself was nice, which wasn’t something Winnie was expecting given its location. It could almost pass as a tourist attraction if it weren’t in the middle of nowhere. She could see a general store, a school, a police station, and even a post office. Alyssa had laughed when she ogled the last one.

“We have mail, you know,” She had joked.

Over the crisp smell of ice, Winnie could faintly smell livestock. Because there was. There were a few corrals of sheep and cattle, and even a chicken coop. 

“We have to get our produce somehow,” Alyssa said, stepping off of her stoop. “My mom’s the mayor, so I just kinda help out wherever I can. Tom runs the school with Angie. I sometimes volunteer there. Then Barry owns the general store and Dee Dee owns the post office and…” She trailed off as the sound of crunching snow approached loudly. “Emma!”

“Alyssa!” Someone shouted back.

Winnie turned to see a young woman riding into town on a white Icelandic horse. She was bundled up in a thick caribou fur coat, but Winnie could still faintly see dirty blonde hair peeking out from under the toque and cap she was wearing. She pulled her horse to a stop in front of the two of them, spraying them lightly with snow. She hopped down and embraced Alyssa tightly.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Alyssa said after they pulled apart. 

The woman laughed. “You always act like I’m gone forever. It was just one day.”

“A lot can happen in one day!” Alyssa said. “You never know what might happen out here. It’s dangerous.”

Another laugh. “True. Our new friend here proved that.” The woman grinned at Winnie. “Hi, I’m Emma. We met before, but I don’t think you remember me carrying your unconscious body up the stairs of my house.”

Alyssa elbowed her lightly in the ribs. “Be nice.”

“I am!” Emma protested. “I was just SAYING!”

Alyssa rolled her eyes in a loving way. Winnie assumed that they were more than just friends.

“I’m Winnie,” Winnie said, then instantly thrusted out a hand, wanting to be polite. Emma blinked at it, then laughed and shook it energetically. The rabbit skin gloves she was wearing were soft and thick against Winnie’s fleece ones.

“Oh, I like her!” Emma said animatedly to Alyssa. “Are you from around here? ‘Cause you’re SO polite!”

And she was SO friendly. Winnie didn’t think anyone at home would treat a stranger this way. Maybe mountain folk just liked new people?

“Ah-- No, I’m actually from Indiana.” Winnie said.

Emma blinked and looked at Alyssa. “Which one is that?” She looked back at Winnie. “That’s…the one on fire, right?”

“You’re thinking about California, sweetie,” Alyssa said.

“Ohhhh,” Emma nodded knowingly. “What’s California?”

Alyssa laughed, and Emma looked victorious at making her do so. Winnie wondered what it was like to have such a healthy relationship with people.

“I’m gonna put Vinny up,” Emma said. She looked at Winnie. “His full name is Vincent van GoGo, in case you were curious. He LOVES to run in the snow.” She patted the horse’s fuzzy cheek. “Anyway, wanna come with me? We can get to know each other! You already had Alyssa Time, which is great, don’t get me wrong, but it’s Emma Time, now!”

“Oh, umm,” Winnie shifted in the snow, glancing at Alyssa for approval as if she were her mom. “S-sure.”

“I’m coming with you, you know,” Alyssa said, nudging Emma. “You jellyfish.”

“Oi! Rude!” Emma nudged her back, and they both laughed. Winning just felt intense yearning in her chest and looked away before it could turn into a fiery jealousy.

Winnie followed Emma and Alyssa around to the back of the house. There, a stable was set up against the side of a sheer rock cliff. Overhead, dagger-like icicles hung from the mountain’s edge like silver swords. Winnie tried not to think about them falling on her while she was under them.

“This is Queenie,” Emma said, gesturing to the thickly-muscled dun Canadian rustic pony in the stable. “And that’s Pebbles.” She pointed to the dapple grey near the back. “They help us all around the village, but Queenie was the one who carried you back here. What were you doing out there, anyway? Since you’re Indianan and all. Is that what your people are called? Should I just call you ‘American’?”

Winnie decided that this woman had spoken more genuine words to her in a matter of ten minutes than any one of her friends combined. It was starting to make Winnie’s head spin at simply being interacted with. Or maybe that was just the worms.

“Oh, umm… I was on a school trip, but the plane crashed.”

Emma’s bright expression faded in an instant, and Winnie realized she  _ was  _ capable of feeling something other than happiness and love towards who she assumed was her wife. 

“I’m so sorry,” Emma said as she put Vinny away. “Was there anyone else? I can go out and look for them.”

Winnie shook her head. “Not that I saw. I mean, I saw one, but…” She looked away, remembering the body of Marcus and the dark red furrows opened up in his chest. She swallowed thickly, and this time she knew it hadn’t been the anus-eating worms that were causing her sudden wave of nausea.

“I’m sorry.” Emma said. “But hey. You’re safe now. Nothing is going to happen to you while you’re here.”

Winnie smiled slightly at her.

“Yes,” Alyssa nodded her head at Emma, then looked to Winnie with a reassuring gaze. “We have supplies delivered here every month. The next shipment is in a few days. They’ll be able to bring you home.”

Emma deflated upon hearing this. “Wait, she has to leave?”

Alyssa looked at her, her eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah? Emma, she has a family back in Indiana. Don’t you think they’re going to wonder where their daughter is?”

Winnie actually snorted. “I doubt it.”

Alyssa and Emma looked at her, now both confused.

“What?” Alyssa asked.

“My parents won’t freak out, don’t worry,” Winnie said without thinking. “They probably won’t even care. Nobody will.” 

Now Alyssa and Emma looked extremely concerned. Winnie shifted, unsure on how to deal with people being worried over her. It wasn’t like it happened often or was ever really genuine.

“Umm… Anyway,” Winnie looked out of the stable. “Thank you for your hospitality. I know I’ve said it before, but it really means a lot to me.”

“Like I said,” Alyssa said. “I couldn’t leave you out there. I’m glad you’re here.”

Winnie smiled slightly at her. Nobody had ever said that to her before. She didn’t know how else to respond to it.

“I got mushrooms,” Emma butt in, holding out some weird-looking, funnel-shaped yellow mushrooms. When Winnie and Alyssa both burst out laughing, she grinned brightly in victory. She then looked at Winnie. “Ever had chanterelle mushrooms, kid?”

Winnie shook her head.

Emma gaped. “Do you have NOTHING in India?”

“Indiana,” Alyssa corrected.

“You’re missing out,” Emma ignored her. “They’re SO GOOD! Here, try one.” She handed one of the mushrooms to Winnie. Winnie looked down at it, and Alyssa quickly swiped it out of her palm.

“Emma!” She scolded. “No feeding children random mushrooms!”

“They aren’t ‘random mushrooms’!” Emma argued. “They’re chanterelles!”

“You aren’t supposed to eat them raw!”

“They aren’t poisonous!” Emma protested. “I’ve eaten them raw before and I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“Somehow,” Alyssa muttered in a good-natured way. “And they may not be poisonous, but they can still cause an upset stomach, and Winnie’s poor tummy is already upset as it is.” She paused, then narrowed her eyes at Emma. “Wait a minute… Is THAT why you were whining about a stomach ache two weeks ago?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emma said innocently.

“EMMA DID YOU EAT RAW MUSHROOMS?”

“ANYWAY!!” Emma yelled louder than her wife/partner (Winnie didn’t know exactly). “Look what else I got from my foraging adventure! That’s what I do, by the way, Winn. Can I call you Winn? I think it’s fitting. And calling you ‘kid’ makes me feel like a dad, blah. I’m a mommy type of girl, right, ‘Lyssa?” She nudged Alyssa with her elbow, going “eh? eh? eh?” while Alyssa didn’t react.

Winnie wondered, for a moment, if this was what it was like to have parents that actually gave a shit about her.

“Anyway, I forage for the village,” Emma said to Winnie, stopping her teasing when she didn’t get a reaction from Alyssa. “There’s a lot of resources out there that can help in the village that the choppers can’t bring.” She began sifting through the bag she had slung across her body. “We have rose hips, more reishi mushrooms, birch strips, mica caps, oyster mushrooms, old man’s beard lichen, isn’t that a funny name? Haha.”

Winnie giggled softly at her babbling. Even with her stomach still hurting faintly and the bitter coldness all around her, she became aware of the warmth bubbling up inside of her the longer she was around these two. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so welcomed anywhere, but she certainly hadn’t expected it to come in a frozen wasteland.

After Emma stopped chattering like a jungle bird, Winnie was taken back into town. A few more people were out and eyeing her curiously. She assumed that newcomers didn’t come around very often.

Slowly, one-by-one, as she was being led around Wolfden, village folk began creeping up to Winnie to talk to her. Everyone had a question for her. Some of the adults looked at her suspiciously--to be expected, Winnie supposed, as she  _ was  _ a stranger--and many of the youngsters asked for in-depth details about who she was, how she got there, where she came from, what her favorite color was. One teenager around her age tried to flirt, calling her a “hot American chick”, and Emma chased him off.

“Sorry,” Alyssa said after the questioning mostly died down. “They don’t see a lot of new people very often.”

“I was wondering about that,” Winnie said. “Why  _ are  _ you all living up here? Not that it’s a bad thing! It’s just a strange location.”

“Mountain life is way better than city life,” Emma said. “It’s so much calmer up here. Also no taxes, so.”

Winnie giggled softly. Immediately after, nausea came flowing into her like a rogue wave and she clenched her jaw. Of course her stomach would try to ruin the one time she was actually having fun. And when people were interacting with her, too! Because they wanted to! Not because she had a rich family! She had to try and push through it.

Alyssa and Emma began leading her out to a nearby thicket. It wasn’t long before Winnie recognized it as the place she had passed out in. Some of her blood was still on the snow.

“Blood on snow always gave me chills,” Emma commented. “Pun intended.”

“This was where we found you,” Alyssa said to Winnie. 

“Good thing I said we should go riding,” Emma said. “Or else who knows what would have happened.”

Winnie glanced nervously at the chainlink door up the slope of snow. She vividly remembered bursting out through it while being chased by something that wanted her dead. She wondered if Emma and Alyssa knew about it, and she was about to ask when a sharp pain gripped her stomach. It was too much for her to ignore, and she gasped and hugged her midsection tightly, sinking down to her knees. 

“Winnie?” Alyssa was down beside her in an instant. Her hand was warm against her back, even with all her coverings. “Sweetie? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” Winnie said instantly, she couldn’t help it. She had to apologize. “I-it’s just-- M-my stomach--”

“She’s sick?” Emma looked at Alyssa.

“Trent said with either food poisoning or intestinal parasites,” Alyssa told her as she began rubbing Winnie’s back.

Emma whistled. “Yikes. How does that even happen?”   
“I dunno,” Winnie mumbled weakly. “The deer I caught was so hard to get, too… I don’t even know how to properly use a bow and it was dark and there was this green fog everywhere and I had to  _ kill an animal _ … And then it just ended up making me sick. All of that for nothing.” She looked up at Alyssa and Emma, and they had weird expressions. “Wh-what?”

“Did you say green fog?” Alyssa asked.

“Umm,” Winnie shifted, which caused her to wince when her stomach cramped viciously again. “Y-yeah… Is that not a normal Canada thing? Like the aurora borealis? Cause I thought it was…”

Emma and Alyssa exchanged looks. They looked…worried. Winnie swallowed thickly, then plunged into something that had been nagging at the back of her head: 

“I found this note… It said something about a ‘Darkwalker.’ What is that?”

Emma cussed underneath her breath and took off her toque to worriedly run her fingers through her hair. Alyssa scooped Winnie up as if she weighed nothing, causing Winnie to squeak.

“Did I do something wrong?” Winnie asked nervously. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to!”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, sweetie,” Alyssa assured her. “We just—” She glanced at Emma again, then at the cliffs behind them. “We should get back inside. You need to rest and get more medicine.”

Winnie didn’t argue. She pressed her face against Alyssa’s soft, warm chest and tried to focus on on the attention she was getting instead of the gnawing sense of anxiety that was filling her more and more as time went by.


End file.
